


Undertaker and the Bone and Rag Shop

by Ink-Raven (k505)



Series: The Iron Bridges and Crimson Raven [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1940s, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Angels, Aurors, BAMF Harry, BAMF Undertaker, Blood Magic, Blood and Gore, Bottom Harry Potter, Bottom Undertaker, Crossover, Demons, Detective Noir, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, M/M, Magical investigations, Male Harem/Undertaker, Martial Arts, Moresomes, Mpreg, Multi, Murder Mystery, Necromancy, Possessive Behavior, Protectiveness, Shinigami, Threesomes, Uke Undertaker, Undertaker is Harry Potter, Unspeakables, Violence, Yôkai
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-10-01 02:28:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17235632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/k505/pseuds/Ink-Raven
Summary: Life sucks and then you die. Period. Unless you’re Harry Potter. Harry Potter died saving Cedric Diggory’s life from Voldemort’s wrath and finds himself recreated as the Shinigami, Undertaker, in an Alternative Universe. Shinigami. Informant and Information Broker. Magic Practitioner and Rogue. The Shinigami who is called the Aristocrat of Evil, Undertaker, is a creature of many talents and many masks. Who is the creature behind his façade – a murderer or eccentric shopkeeper or both? These questions plague the minds of the Shinigami forces and Demons alike, even years after the disappearance of Undertaker. In 1948, a new shop has opened in Diagon Alley, aptly named the Bone and Rag Resale Shop. Its proprietor is strange man. He can sell you almost anything from the secrets of your enemies to the location of your lost hidden treasures, but only if you can pay the price. Rumors have spread among both Dark and Light forces, and both Professor Dumbledore and Gellert Grindelwald take an interested in the peculiar man.





	Undertaker and the Bone and Rag Shop

**Author's Note:**

> Edited and Re-posted on December 30, 2018.   
> Original Version posted in September 2017.

#  **Undertaker and the Bone and Rag Shop**

## Book One of the Iron Bridges and Crimson Raven Series

**Explicit Adult Content – _Read at your Own discretion_**

Written and Illustrated by Ink-Raven (aka k505)

Additional Illustrations by No One Yet

Edited by BluC1026

**_Edited and Reposted on Dec. 30, 2018._ **

**Disclaimer:** I do not own JK Rowling’s Magical World (The Harry Potter Series (books 1-7/Films 1-8), Quidditch throughout the Ages (book), The Tales of Beedle the Bard (book), the Cursed Child (script), Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (film)) or the Black Butler (Anime/Manga) series. They belong to their creators and various publishers. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. This fictional story is the product of my imagination and shared for entertainment purposes, but not for profit purposes.

 **Undertaker and the Bone and Rag Shop, _Book One of the Iron Bridges and Crimson Raven Series_ **by Ink-Raven

Life sucks and then you die. Period. Unless you’re Harry Potter. Harry Potter died saving Cedric Diggory’s life from Voldemort’s wrath and finds himself recreated as the Shinigami, Undertaker, in an Alternative Universe. Shinigami. Informant and Information Broker. Magic Practitioner and Rogue. The Shinigami who is called the Aristocrat of Evil, Undertaker, is a creature of many talents and many masks. Who is the creature behind his façade – a murderer or eccentric shopkeeper or both? These questions plague the minds of the Shinigami forces and Demons alike, even years after the disappearance of Undertaker. In 1948, a new shop has opened in Diagon Alley, aptly named the Bone and Rag Resale Shop. Its proprietor is strange man. He can sell you almost anything from the secrets of your enemies to the location of your lost hidden treasures, but only if you can pay the price. Rumors have spread among both Dark and Light forces, and both Professor Dumbledore and Gellert Grindelwald take an interested in the peculiar man.    

 **Future Main Pairing:** Sebastian Michaelis/Tom Riddle Jr./Aquila Black/Nicodemus Prince/Undertaker (Harry)

 **Side Pairings:** Claudius Malfoy/Cecil Aurelian Malfoy, Tiberius Malfoy/Anabel Kingston Malfoy, Arcturus Black/Melania McMillan, Fleamont Potter/Euphemia Farley Potter, Charlus Potter/Dorea Black Potter, Ignatius Prewet/Lucretia Black Prewet, Orion Black/Walburga Black, Harfang Longbottom/Callidora Black Longbottom, Caspar Crouch/Charis Black Crouch, Pollux Black/Irma Crabbe Black, Septimius Weasley/Cedrella Black Weasley, Rodolphus Lestrange/Bellatrix Black Lestrange, Mikhail Urquhart/Marguerite “Molly” Prewet Urquhart, Julian Ryder/Arcturus “Arthur” Weasley-Ryder/Oisin McCaffrey-Ryder  

 **Notes:** I have reinvented the Shinigami. I have altered and given Demons new abilities. There are new species of magical creatures and other timeline and canonical changes to the story.   

* * *

 

 

 

 

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/162258881@N05/32662237258/in/dateposted-public/)

_Voldemort’s wand was leveled at Cedric, who stood protectively over Harry. Harry had been bound and subjected to torture, while Cedric had been unconscious. “No, Cedric move.” The boy whispered furiously, “I don’t want you to get hurt.” Hurt, Cedric pondered, his heart ached that the younger student had endured so much while he had been unconscious. Voldemort leveled his wand at Cedric and whispered the killing curse._ So, he would die, _Cedric thought,_ but there was no better way to die than in the defense of a friend. _The boy thought fiercely. A brilliant green light filled the space between them and then Cedric was falling._

_“No, Harry!” Cedric screamed as Harry used the last of his strength to push Cedric away intercepting the killing curse himself. Cedric landed badly on top of the Tournament cup and with the sickening feeling of a hook in his navel he was gone. The last thing he saw was Harry’s lifeless green eyes and prone corpse and Voldemort shrieking angrily. The boy’s eyes would haunt him for a very long time._

He had been the rogue Shinigami, Undertaker, for over a thousand years, far longer than he had been Harry Potter. A young man with waist-length, silver-gray hair, a single braid and unusual facial scarring, studied the words in the newspaper’s, the Daily Oracle’s, obituaries giggling obscenely in his flat above his shop. The paper was dated, November 2, 1947. The pictures in the paper may or may not have been moving, depends on who you were and what you were born with. He had been born as a Magic user. A Mage to be precise, had that old fart, Dumbledore, not bound most of his magic as a toddler. He had also died as a magic user.

The deities had owed him a boon. They had allowed him to keep his magic and bloodline magical abilities despite being reformed as a Shinigami. Then they had unceremoniously dumped him thousands of years in the past and in an alternative dimension. Over the years, he had studied magic in private. First hiding his magical studies from the other Shinigami before going rogue and immersing himself in the underground muggle world. He sold information on the black-market. The whispers of the dead told him many things.

The light shone into the flat. The room was filled to the brim with books on obscure and lost magical studies. It was a collection that would make any pureblood drool. Undertaker had studied magic from around the world, although he preferred the magical studies originating from Asia. Undertaker was fluent in many languages. The eternally-young man got up from his reclined position on the black velvet couch. His black silk sleeping pants hung dangerously low on his narrow hips. He had a firm and lightly muscled abdomen. His arms were long with wiry muscles and his long black nails glittered in the sunlight. He had long slender legs that seemed to go on forever and skin as pale as death. Undertaker noted the date, his multi-colored chartreuse-and-emerald eyes shone with amusement, “It’s time,” he said, “time for it all to begin!”

* * *

 

**December 10, 1947 – 4:29 pm**

**_Malfoy Chateau_ **

**Blaenau Ffestiniog, Wales**                

Near the village of Blaenau Ffestiniog, Wales, in a hidden valley, stands Malfoy Chateau. The Malfoy Chateau is fashioned after the Chateau de Chenonceau and is situated over a small stream with a rocky bed. Albino Peacocks populated the weather controlled land. Flowering vines and gardens bloom in the dead of winter. Outside the boundaries of the weather control-wards of the Malfoy chateau, snow drifts piled high against trees and boughs were heavily laden with the snow. A light dusting of snow continued to fall. The wards failed to register the presence of an intruder in the household.

“Father, you wanted to see us,” Twenty-four-year-old Abraxas Malfoy said letting himself into his father’s study. He was followed in by his younger brother, twenty-one-years-old Aurelian Malfoy, who was named after their carrier, Cecil Malfoy nee Aurelian. Abraxas expected his father to start in on Abraxas’s decision to support the half-blood, Riddle, with the Malfoy name. Abraxas had sworn his loyalty to the emerging Lord of Twilight, although the Malfoy family typically swore themselves to the Lord of Darkness, every generation. Aurelian had likewise sworn to Tom Riddle, something which greatly displeased their father, Claudius. Aurelian was their father’s and his precious gem. Abraxas had always enjoyed the attention his younger brother showered him with, but he had not wanted Aurelian to place himself in danger by allying with Tom.

Abraxas stiffened at the sight of his father conversing animatedly with a stranger. The stranger was dressed like a muggle, but that was not what made Abraxas uncomfortable. The stranger had the Malfoy silver-blond hair. His profile was at an odd angle, titled slightly to the left from his seat at Abraxas’s right side. However, Abraxas could see that the stranger had the Malfoy’s sculpted cheekbones and delicate nose. He was young, younger than Abraxas and even younger than Aurelian. His skin was paler than both siblings’ soft peach-and-cream.

He had the snowy-white color skin of a vampire. Emerald-and-chartreuse eyes, framed by ridiculously long eyelashes, met his eyes abruptly. A thin, aristocratic eyebrow lifted in question. Abraxas’s eyes traced over the light scarring on the younger man’s face and throat. It looked as it someone had attempted to decapitate him and then cut his face in half, before sewing it back together. The scarring was smooth and unmarred by puckered skin, so it only added to his mysterious attractiveness. He was tall and slender, shorter than Abraxas but taller than Aurelian. Aurelian, who had been slender in his youth, was broader about the shoulders than the stranger. Full and sensual lips quirked into a half-smile as their father stood.  

“Abraxas and Aurelian, may I introduce –” their father began before Aurelian cut off, leveling his wand at the stranger.

“Father, how could you cheat on Papa! This abomination of a bastard, shouldn’t exist!” Said bastard lifted his silvery-blond eyebrow in question. Claudius’s mouth was hanging open in shock and he was colored slightly red in indignation. 

A giggle escaped the stranger’s lips. Abraxas grabbed his younger brother’s wrist before he could fire off a curse, “Explain yourself, father!” Abraxas demanded holding back his struggling younger brother.

“Abraxas and Aurelian,” Claudius said sighing, “May I introduce you to your Uncle Hadrian.”

“Uncle?!” Both young men shouted together.

“Now, Claudius,” Hadrian said in a patronizing tone of voice, “They will never believe that. Tell them the truth.”

Sinking down into his chair, Claudius sighed, “What have I told you about the foundation of the Malfoy family?” 

“That we originated from France?” Aurelian said.

At the same time, Abraxas replied, “That our origins from France were a cover story for a more sinister and obscure origins.”

“Abraxas is correct.” Claudius said, “We originated from the Irish tribes, particularly the more inhuman ancestors, the Dark Sidhe. Dark Magic Practitioners were formerly various species of Sidhe exiled for teaching mortals magic. For their crime, they were cursed and exiled by the Sidhe elders, to be mortal, albeit with an extensive lifespan. These Sidhe would intermarry with human magic practitioners creating the dark purebloods. Light Magic practitioners are the result of the Sidhe’s students strictly intermarrying each other, Meanwhile, Muggle-born magic practitioners are a second magical evolution of humans. Muggle-born practitioners are an entirely different species. This is known to the Ministry of Magic. However, what is unknown to the Ministry, is that our ancestors were a particularly interesting branch of Sidhe, called the Foromii. Our ancestors were Sea gods, violent and misshapen creatures, who could not perform any other magic, but an obscure branch. The Foromii, were despised by their otherworldly kin for their violent and strange abilities. When the dark Sidhe were exiled and cursed, despite having not participated in teaching the mortals, the Foromii were also cursed and exiled. The Foromii were desperate to survive, but because of their misshapen forms and limited magical abilities they were hunted and killed by the Light Magic practitioners. So, they approached a notable and extremely powerful god of death, a species known as Shinigami, and this particular one was known as Undertaker. Undertaker accept their request and granted them all forms of magic by blood adopting them. He cared for them, gifting them with immunity to diseases. He educated them and helped them to adjust. Undertaker was known as progenitor of the Malfoy bloodline.”

“So, this man is an offshoot of the Malfoy bloodline?” Aurelian asked.

“No,” Claudius began, but his oldest son interrupted him.

“Then you’re Lord Undertaker?” Abraxas asked, Hadrian lifted an eyebrow.

“No way?!” Aurelian breathed.

“Yes, I am Undertaker,” the man said examining his nails, “Although, I will be known for the time being as Hadrian Malfoy, your Uncle and Claudius’s youngest brother. I tend to assume the identities of various Foromii family members. Hadrian Malfoy was stillborn, but your grandfather, Domitian Malfoy and his wife, Vivian, kept the identity alive for me. Claudius’s younger brother, your Uncle Tiberius, will be the only other individual who knows of my identity.”

“I don’t understand, why now? Why appear now?!” Aurelian demanded.

“I need you both to get me close to Tom Marvolo Riddle Jr.” Undertaker replied.

“No,” Abraxas snapped.  

* * *

 

**December 12, 1947 – 6:52 pm**

**_Black Manor_ **

**London, England**  

 _The winter ball was held in Black’s manor, which was smackdab in the heart of London on Whitehall Street. Muggles often lost track of time crossing Whitehall, an after effect of the creative and massive wards surrounding the Black property._

_The Black manor looked like an amalgamation of a white marble mausoleum and the Berlin Cathedral to Hadrian. It was made of a unique mixture of limestone bricks decorated with elegant mosaics made of seashells, blue coral stone, green coral stone and mother-of-pearl. The blue-green tiled roof was decorated with strangely alluring statures in the eaves, depicting sirens or succubae. The front garden, which was behind the long black iron fence, was filled with evergreens and spruce bushes. It was massive, covering at least two acres. The ground was covered in a thick layer of snow and the evergreens looked picturesque with boughs laden with powdery-white snow. At the gate two magical guards stood to welcome in guest with invitations. The Malfoy carriage, a white-blue monstrosity with the family crest pulled by four white-gray dapple stallions. Their carriage arrived at the gate. Claudius pulled out the invitation from his inner pocket beneath his robes and stuck his hand out of the window. The guard accepted the invitation and after confirming that it was genuine he signaled for the gate to be opened._

Aquila Marius Perseus Black, the only son of Regulus Black the first, and Marius Selwyn, was bored. 

The main ballroom and antechambers were decorated for the occasion. Crystal icicles-shaped decorations were strung throughout the white room. Layer upon layer of sparkling crystal icicles filled the room until it looked like a waterfall of ice was pouring down from the ceiling. The white marble mantles were draped with evergreen boughs tied with red velvet ribbon. Indoor potted evergreens and leafless red dogwood separated the main ballroom from the dining room. The usual warm wood floor of the ballroom had been replaced by an illusion of ice. Gas lanterns hung from the ceiling or were mounted on poles to mimic street lamps. The furniture in the room, artfully decorated lawn furniture, was white with hints of silver. In the dining room, the room was illuminated by both hanging gas lanterns and by fairy lights nestled into plucked poinsettias flowers which were strung in votives throughout the rafters. The tables were covered in white linen and the china was a beautiful crimson color. Red-winged-back chairs were filled with merry makers, chatting before the festivities were to begin. Holly and Mistletoe decorated corners of the antechambers. A live orchestra performed wonderfully.

Aquila perked up when he heard the sentry announce the Malfoy family, Abraxas’s family, to a crowded entrance chamber, “Introducing his esteemed, Lord Claudius Malfoy and the talented Lord Cecil Malfoy nee Aurelian. Heir Abraxas Malfoy, and his younger brother, Mr. Aurelian Malfoy. Also introducing, Lord Malfoy’s youngest brother, Hadrian Malfoy, recently returned from abroad.” There were muffled gasps of surprise and Aquila quickly stuck his head out the door to see Abraxas’s Uncle. Abraxas rarely spoke about the mysterious Hadrian Malfoy, mostly a passing mention of him was given in relation to Claudius Malfoy by others. Aquila felt something curl in his lower belly, arousal sparked inside of him at the sight of the beautiful and mysterious Hadrian Malfoy. Several young ladies twittered about the man’s unique facial scarring which destroyed his otherwise handsome face. Aquila gave the women a mild glare, the scarring made the younger man more mysterious and alluring.

Abraxas excused himself from the young women who flocked to him to find his friend, Aquila Black, and see if Lady Black had included the young Lord Twilight on the invitation list. He needed to warn Tom of his “Uncle’s” interest in him. Surrounded by pureblood aristocrats, Hadrian smirks turning to his brother, Claudius.

* * *

Tom Marvolo Riddle Jr., unofficially known as the Lord Twilight by his companions, lounged on a settee in a half-forgotten parlor in the Black manor. Tom has thick chocolate-brown hair, which is perfected, coiffed and parted. He has stunning navy-blue eyes framed by ridiculously long eyelashes, which brush his high, sculpted, cheekbones. Below his pert nose are thin pink lips and a square jaw with a cleft. He has a golden-peach complexion. He is tall, taller than any of his friends, and broad shouldered with wiry muscles and trim waist. He is dressed in the finest robes with two familiar crests, naming him as Lord Slytherin and Lord Ravenscroft. Tom was the very image of a pureblood wizard of the haute monde, despite his dubious lineage. Surrounding him, were gorgeous young women and men, some married and some not. Suddenly, his righthand man enters the parlor, looking particularly harried. “Hello, Abraxas,” Tom greeted from the settee.

Glancing around nervously, Abraxas seemed too relax when he saw no one lurking in the shadows. “Oh, good, I found you first,” Abraxas murmured, “Tom, if I may speak with you for a moment privately?”

“One moment ladies and gentlemen,” Tom excused himself stepping out in the hall after Abraxas, “What is it Abraxas?”

“I am sorry milord for interrupting your politicking. I had to warn you, stay away from my Uncle Hadrian Malfoy. He had shown a disturbing interest in you… that is vaguely frightening.” Abraxas answered.

“Oh?” Tom mused, “What is so disturbing about his interest?”

“I can’t tell precisely… my magic prevents me. However, I can tell you he is very powerful and very dangerous.”  Abraxas staggered forward suddenly, things began to blur as he chocked out, “Not entirely human.” Abraxas fell unconscious. Tom caught him before his head hit the floor. Tom raised his wand and cast a medical scan on Abraxas, finding nothing medically wrong with the other man. Tom huffed angrily, before laying Abraxas on the floor and reentering the parlor.  

“Thaddeus, please assist me in bringing Heir Malfoy inside. He has had a fainting spell.” Tom lied, not wanting to mention this Uncle quite yet. Tom was prepared to investigate this matter thoroughly.

“Oh, why don’t I have my family’s servant bring him in?” a young woman with coal black hair and sparkling blue eyes asked. Tom quickly searched his memory for the woman’s name.

“Yes, I think that would be best. Thank you, Miss Phantomhive.” Tom said silkily.

“It’s Adrianna,” the nineteen-year-old woman said blushing lightly, “Sebastian!” She called out imperiously. A man, a butler, appeared from the opposite door, he had silken ebony hair and entrancing ruby-colored eyes. Tom had to quickly divert his attention or his instantaneous attraction to the butler would become obvious. “Sebastian, fetch the Milord Twilight’s companion from the hall.”

“As you wish, Miss Phantomhive,” the butler answered professionally.

As the butler passed Tom, the butler seemed to freeze and sniff delicately, abruptly a rather disturbing grin lit up the butler’s face. He made his way into the hall and took another delightful sniff before picking up Abraxas. He reentered and deposited Abraxas gently on the couch. The ease in which he did so was frankly frightening. Tom quickly identified the man as nonhuman.

“Sebastian, what has you in such an unusual mood?” Adrianna asked her butler cautiously.

“An old friend has returned to Britain,” the man chuckled, “An old friend of your ancestor and mine. I thought he had been killed. Ah, but I should’ve guessed. He was nearly impossible to kill… I underestimate him.” He murmured the second half, only Tom heard it. The butler smiled with too many teeth as he exited the room. Tom stood stock still in shock, putting the pieces together. _Whatever, Abraxas’s Uncle was, something not entirely human, was particularly hard to kill and lived for generations – what an interesting creature,_ Tom thought to himself, _he would just love to get acquainted._

“Please excuse me,” Tom said, “I must inform Lord Malfoy that his heir fainted. I am entrusting the care of my righthand man to you lovely ladies. Gentlemen, if you would be so kind as to protect both these wonderful ladies and my friend, I would greatly appreciate it.” Tom said, excusing himself in a charismatic manner. There were eager exclamations of ascent and many of the young men seemed to puff up proudly. With a soft chuckle Tom left.

* * *

“Gentlemen,” Tiberius Malfoy interrupted his friends as he saw his so-called-brother near their group, “Let me introduce you to my brother, Hadrian Malfoy.” Undertaker, practically oozing confidence and charisma, introduced himself with an inclined head.  

“It’s a pleasure to meet you all. Tiberius, brother wishes to speak with you.” Tiberius nodded and excused himself. Undertaker was about to excuse his presence when Lord Black interrupted.

“You have stolen our best conversationalist, come speak with us to keep us entertained.” Arcturus Black nearly demanded. “Tell us about yourself?” Arcturus asked in interest.

“There’s not much to tell, I was a sickly child and raised by nannies and tutors in a Malfoy property in France. At the age of thirteen, I ran away for several months. However, I learned the error of my ways and returned, eventually settling in Spain to finish my education. After earning my masterships, I earned my way across most of the continents both in the muggle world and in the wizarding world. I recently opened my own story in Diagon Alley.”

“What store is that?” a minor Lord, Matteo Jugson, interrupted.  

“The Bone and Rag Resale Shop,” Hadrian answered.

“A Resale shop, truly?” Arcturus asked lifting an incredulous eyebrow.

“Ah, but that would be its cover. I can’t very well go parading around Diagon Alley, what I really sell.” Hadrian answered.

“And what do you sell?” Lord Selwyn asked in interest.

“Ancient Books of Knowledge, Secrets, and Obscure Artifacts, all of which I have gathered in my travels. Additionally, I have cultivated a vast network of contacts who are all too willing to assist me in my endeavors.”  

“What is your rarest magical tome?” Lord Rowle asked challengingly.

“It’s a series,” Hadrian said, “Written by Salazar Slytherin called Martial Magicks Moste Potent.”

“And you know it is Slytherin’s work how?” Lord Black asked skeptically.

“Are you a parselmouth?” Hadrian asked.

“No, but I am familiar with one such individual.” Lord Black said, frowning at the mention on the descendant of the noble Salazar Slytherin, a disgusting half-blood.

“Well, fortune has it I am also a parseltongue, although I bear no direct relation to Salazar. It was inherited through an obscure curse in the Malfoy family.” Hadrian said, “I am the first to inherit it in many generations. I doubt my brothers were informed. The negative effects of curse are headaches and nausea, when I use the gift.”

“How fascinating.” Arcturus murmured. “Ah, here is the individual I spoke about. Mr. Malfoy, may I introduce you to Tom Riddle Jr.” Hadrian turned to see Tom Marvolo Riddle Jr. standing behind him staring at him with something akin to lust in his eyes.

* * *

  **Secrets, Solstice and Enmity**

 **December 14, 1947.** Slytherin Palace towered over Bibury, South Cotswold, upon a hill and under incredibly powerful wards. These wards were fueled by a nexus point, which was four magical ley-lines meeting beneath the palace. The palace was built from white ledgestone and black wrought-iron. It had five massive spires and five wings, with ornately carved rune work carved into the stone. There were a series of open courtyards filled with roses and balconies which stretch floors. From the private study on the sixth floor, one could see balcony gardens and roof garden. There was a stained-glass conservatory. Gargoyles perched on the eaves sheltered from weather by overhanging roofs. Much like the Malfoy Chateau, Slytherin palace was placed under weather-controlling wards. Tom leaned against the railing of the balcony attached to the private study.

Almond-shaped navy-blue eyes framed by thin, expressive eyebrows, were half-shuttered against the sunlight. Tom has sun-kissed golden-peach skin. He was tall and broad shouldered with wiry muscles and a sculpted face composed of high cheekbones, a square jaw with a cleft and full and soft pale pink lips. He was dressed in black trousers with tiny silver buttons, a white collared-dress shirt and a silver-gray, silk waistcoat. He was barefoot, and a pants button was undone. He looked like he had just shagged someone, which he had. He had taken Abraxas Malfoy over his desk and the man had practically begged to be taken.

Abraxas lounged barefoot on the green-velvet couch hedonistically, a crystal glass of white wine in one hand. Abraxas had tucked his feet beneath his butt, his knees were bent, and he was curled a little over the arm of the chair. 

_Tom had never met a man so alluring to him as Hadrian Malfoy. He had been surprised by the sheer charisma and sensuality the man seemed to exude. He remembered each exquisite detail of the man he had met two nights prior. Oh, Tom had met other beauties and had slept with both men and women, but something about Hadrian called to him. He was completely enthralled by Abraxas’s Uncle._

Tom’s interest in his Uncle did not please Abraxas. Abraxas was in no way romantically interested in Tom other than in sex, but he did not like the interest Tom had for Hadrian. “I’m going out.” Tom said, buttoning up his slacks and running fingers through his hair, “Go back to your manor.” He commanded Abraxas, as he swept out of the room under the disapproving gaze of Abraxas.  

* * *

 

Diagon Alley was bustling with activity. The winter sun shone brightly down on the shoppers. Their breaths could be seen in frosty air. Children with thick mittens and hats stared through the large windows of the toy shop. An elderly couple was purchasing roasted chestnuts nearby from a street vendor. Tucked away in a corner of the prestigious alley near the shabby district of Knockturn Alley, is “The Bone and Rag Resale Shop,” which is written in peeling gold lettering on the front window. Through the window, Arcturus Black sees a cluttered mess of odds ‘n ends covered in dust. Arcturus is disappointed, but he perseveres, pushing his way through the front door of the shop. 

However, upon entering the shop, everything changed dramatically. Opposed to the dusty odds ‘n ends, and books seen through the window the room was stunning and lavished. The interior was shaped like a Victorian conservatory with an arched ceiling made of blue-green tinted glass. Framing the tall and narrow windowpanes, decorated with black iron ornamentation, were Japanese window panel-curtains which were made of natural linen. The curtains were red, orange and purple with gold embroidery in the shape of Asian dragons. Japanese paper doors separated the back of the shop from the showroom. The showroom had a black flagstone floor, but certain areas were carpeted with red and burnt-umber colored, Indian rugs.

There were solid white walls lined with floor-to-ceiling display cases of strange weapons, bookcases that held carefully preserved ancient tomes, and several tribal masks and culturally significant magical items from foreign countries. The store also held a series of potions for sale alongside rare, and highly disturbing, potions ingredients. In the center of the showroom were two bronze-colored velvet couches with a highly polished dark-oak coffee table between them. Both the couches and the table sat on an ornate Indian rug. Seated on the farthest couch from the door is Hadrian Malfoy, a teacup rests in its saucer on the table before him. He looks up from the weathered book in front of his face and stands with a languid grace, which is usually only witnessed among giant predatorial cats of Africa, South America and Southeast Asia.

“Lord Black,” Hadrian Malfoy greets, “Would you like to take a seat?” Hadrian says offering the couch across from his own.

“Thank you,” Arcturus said taking the couch across from the young man, “That is an interesting display of magic on your shop.” Arcturus commented. “I was fooled into thinking it was truly a resale shop. How does it work?”

“Thank you, the spell is of my own invention. It’s parent spell in the Notice-me-Not charm. However, instead of hiding something in plain sight, it allows the shoppers to see what they imagine is a disappointing resale shop or something equally unappealing. A secondary spell on the door, turns those who are searching for a resale shop elsewhere. As for the Aurors and other such authority figures, I simply greet them at the door and trigger the third spell, which dissuades them from entering. I only accept customers by referral or by selectively contacting individuals.”

“An ingenious system.” Arcturus complements, “Although I am surprise that you actually man the shop.”

“The shop needs my unique touch to keep it open.” Hadrian says calmly, “I do have assistants though. Now what can I help you with Lord Black? Or are you here to window shop?”

“When you were describing what you sold, you mention secrets. What did you mean by secrets?” Arcturus asks.

“How astute of you. Yes, I sell secrets. I know more than is healthy for my continuing existence, but I like to gamble with fate. I know secrets about all the Magical European families, about the Ministry, and right down to secrets that the Lord of Darkness and the Lord of Light would kill to hide.” Hadrian says, a cunning smirk twisting his lips.

“And what would you know about the Lord of Light which would drive him to murder?” Arcturus asks in interest.

“Ah, that would be telling. That’s my secret to keep until I receive payment.” Hadrian says.

“And how do I know if the information is as valuable as you claim?” Arcturus asks sternly.

“I could always tell you information about your own family, secrets which you hid or that your family took to the grave.”

“You’re playing with fire boy,” Arcturus says fiercely, “What makes you think I won’t hurt or kill you for knowing private information?” Arcturus demanded.

“I doubt you would accomplish it. If you wish to scare me, little scares me and your intimidation technique is pathetic. If you wish to hurt or cause me permanent disfigurement, I doubt it will last long with my healing capabilities. If you kill me, let me tell you there are worst things than death. Then there is the fact that you’re allied with the Malfoy family… killing one of their own cannot endear them to you. However, there is a clause in my business, I answer questions. I don’t offer information. You must know what you’re asking after. Let’s say that your son, Orion, was having an affair. Unless you ask me who his lover is, I won’t answer. If you ask me, what secret do you have on the Nott family, I cannot answer. So, my advice to you is do not let others know that you have secrets to hide. That is why I won’t be telling you Albus Dumbledore’s and Gellert Grindelwald’s secrets.”

Arcturus took a deep breath and released it slowly, mind racing. “What can I do to earn your silence? How much money?”

“For secrets, I don’t exchange my services with money. I trade information for information, or items for information.”

“What do you want?” Arcturus asked carefully.

“I want you to loan me the entire set of the Black Bloodline Grimoires. I will return them to you, I will swear an oath.” Hadrian says smiling mischievously.

“Why the Grimoires? The Black family magic can only wielded by a Black. Unless… no that is impossible. Are you Black?”

“Information, information…” Hadrian says rubbing his be fingers together in the universal sign for cash.

“Fine, I will lend you the Grimoires, but for the first book, I want to know who you really are?! It’s easy to see that you’re not truly Hadrian Malfoy.” Arcturus sneers.

“Very well, but you will come to regret knowing this information. My name is Undertaker, I am the progenitor of the Malfoy Bloodline through blood adoption. Their blood has diluted throughout their years and they share barely any of my abilities at this point. I am a Shinigami or in your language, a God of Death.” Arcturus reeled back as if he had been struck, “Before my death in an Alternative Universe during the year 1994, I was both Heir Black and Heir Potter. I suggest for you wellbeing you keep that to yourself considering I have many allies who would hurt you to protect me, despite how misguided their interference would be.”

“Are you threatening me to keep your secret?” Arcturus demanded.

“Not at all. I have nothing to hide, but the hassle my identity presents is indeed troublesome. I am warning you because my minions are a bit zealous in what they see as my protection. The last individual to betray my trust ended up dissected alive. I am a truly horrible influence on them.” Hadrian answers.

“I suppose, I will take note of that.” Arcturus says swallowing. “How old are you, Undertaker?”

“Over at least a thousand years, I stopped counting around eight-hundred and fifty-two.” Hadrian replies, “Now books!”

The Lord Black bids the creature farewell and reluctantly heads home to gather the Grimoires from his private study. Arcturus Black is shaken to his very core. _The creature, although exhibiting a charismatic façade and who is quite lovely in appearance, is a creature of nightmares to the Dark pureblood sect. Few outside of the Lords of Darkness have ever met a Shinigami and fewer still have survived to tell the tale. There had been whispers of a Shinigami so far above the rest that his name caused equal fear and disgust in his fellows. The creature’s name had been Undertaker._

Unbeknownst to Lord Black, he had been accompanied into the shop by an individual under an invisibility spell. Tom Riddle Jr. had always been fascinated by the legends of Shinigami. He was determined to make Undertaker his. 

* * *

 

 **December 22, 1947.** The Winter Solstice arrived on frigid winter’s day. The rising sun was shinning down on the Malfoy lands, making the stream which trickled below the Malfoy Chateau glisten. Their prized Albino peacocks congregated around the ornate fountain in the streambed, the giant white-ceramic peacock, with sapphire eyes, was surrounded my glistening fish made of turquoise and decorated with gold, which spat out water. A hare popped its head out of its hole and tested the air indecisively. The Malfoy family, save for Hadrian, slept in on this auspicious day. Yule was celebrated by the Malfoy family, differently than many other pureblood families. It was a tradition passed down through generations, and unbeknownst to most of the current Malfoy family, it was a tradition begun by Undertaker. For the first time in several centuries Undertaker would be attending the Malfoy family in their celebration once more, but as Hadrian Malfoy.   

 Yule was celebrated for twelve nights, beginning on December twenty-second of 1947, or the Winter Equinox. The Winter Equinox was celebrated from daybreak to daybreak. Having extracted himself from his bedding early, Hadrian was quick to wash up and dress comfortably in his usual black trousers with silver buttons, white collared dress shirt and silver-gray waistcoat. Over his usual garb he wore a heavy wool frock coat with an unusually long cut and with longer tails. He buttoned the coat’s ornate silver buttons and removed a sleek top hat from his closet. Sitting the hat on his head, he swept out of the large room given to him in the family quarters – something which irked the Malfoy heir and his younger brother. He was then out of the house as the sun began to rise. He went in search of a dogwood bush, pine cones, a holly shrub and wood for a bonfire.

Hadrian had created quite the pile of wood for the bonfire when the Lord of the family finally deemed himself sufficiently awake to participate. Cecil Malfoy nee Aurelian studied them both from the window in his private workshop. Cecil had been leery about the man, the progenitor of the Malfoy bloodline. However, the smile that etched itself on his husband’s face made him crave the attentions of the strange man posing as Hadrian Malfoy. Initially Claudius and his marriage had been one filled with passion and love, but their passion had faded over time. Their love had become cold, more like duty than true love. Cecil did not despise his husband. Neither had he nor Claudius been unfaithful, but for a long time their only joy came from their sons. That this man, this Shinigami, had made his husband smile and laugh like a child inspired a wistfulness in Cecil.

Cecil remembered Hadrian’s words to him, _“Consort Malfoy, if you should desire to separate from my descendant in the future, when I am ready to leave my home country once more, I will dissolve your marriage vows. However, I encourage you to spend time with your husband before you make your decision. I spent time with Claudius when he was just a child and I can see that he loves you. You may have experienced a loss of passion in your marriage, but marriage must age like wine. It becomes more powerful and desirable over time. With every age consider your husband a new person and get to know him again and again. The depth of his love for you will certainly shock you. That said, if you both continue to suffer in this marriage needlessly, I beg of you to end it.”_

Determined to know his husband once more, Cecil slipped on his coat and crossed over the weather-controlled wards into the snow alongside his husband and brother-in-law. Only Hadrian noticed his appearance and winking, Hadrian mimed packing a snowball. Cecil grinned wickedly and packed a snowball in his white gloved hands. Cecil hurled the snowball at his husband. Claudius’s shriek of surprise made Cecil giggle helplessly before he became victim of his husband’s own snowball. The snowball fight which they descended into was a riot. Their sons watched them from their separate bedroom windows incredulously. Finally, his youngest son’s eyes softened when he looked at Hadrian.

Cecil, Claudius and Hadrian slipped into the informal dining room. Claudius and Cecil’s cheeks were red and they were giggling over the odd snowman they had charmed Hadrian’s top hat to look like. Hadrian wore it gamely. Then to Claudius’s shock and to Cecil’s amusement, Hadrian took one look at Claudius’s mother’s taxidermized house cat and shrieked. The stuffed cat sat on the wooden mantle in the informal dining room. “What the hell is that!” Hadrian said hiding behind Cecil and peeking over his shoulder.

“My mother-in-law’s cat.” Cecil answered at the same moment his husband replied.

“Missus Fluff, my mother’s cat.” Claudius said indignantly.

“Dear God, it looks like petrified road kill. I remember that cat, it kept hissing at me after I pet it.”

“I remembered the incident,” Claudius said humor coloring his voice, “While you were petting it, you suggested that cat liver was delectable. I think the poor thing was traumatized.”

“It was a joke! Your mother was so haughty and full of shit, I had to use it for shock value! Even if it was a tasteless joke.”

“Well my mother was certainly… err…” Claudius began, but broke off uncertain how to describe his pretentious mother politely. “Well she was a dignified woman and your joke, if I recall correctly, horrified her. She became even more obsessed with the cat and had it stuffed to memorialize it.”

“No, that is not a cat! It’s stuffed road kill, it’s not even anatomically correct! The thing looks like a badly drawn cartoon character rather than a cat. Was the taxidermist drunk when he stuffed Missus Fluff?” Cecil broke off into chortles.

“My mother-in-law stuffed it herself.” Cecil answered, Hadrian looked faint at the mere thought.

At that moment, Aurelian swept in and threw a cloth napkin over the stuffed cat. “Now that the hideous thing is covered, can we have breakfast?” Aurelian asked. Hadrian slinked around the table and took a seat farthest from the cat, the seat was next to Aurelian. Still giggling, Cecil took a seat at his husband’s elbow. His husband looked ruefully at the cloth covering the cat and took a seat as well.  Food quickly appeared on their plates.

“Is Abraxas not joining us?” Hadrian asked.

Aurelian looked uncomfortable, “He decided to take breakfast in his study.” Claudius face was thunderous, and Cecil frowned unhappily, but before either could go reprimand their oldest son, Hadrian interrupted.

“Well if he wants to be that way, let him. I am not entirely surprised, I know he took my interest in Lord Slytherin as a personal offense. I have no idea why, but it’s not like I planned anything foul for his Lord.”

“What is your interest in our Lord?” Aurelian asked impulsively.

“Aurelian!” Cecil exclaimed worriedly glancing at Hadrian. Claudius looked disapprovingly at his son.

“I suppose that is the beginning to a very complex and rather time-consuming story. As your father knows I am not from this universe or even this timeline. I was born on July 31, 1980 in a parallel universe to a loving couple. A false prophet made a prophecy engineered by a meddling old man to destroy two threats to his control and influence of the British continent, one a Dark Lord and one a powerful infant. However, unlike in this universe, where the titles Lord of Light, Lord of Darkness and Lord of Twilight are magic blessed, there is only Lord of Darkness and Lord of Light which are politically given. The Lord of Light was Albus Dumbledore who was the meddling old Headmaster of Hogwarts with a penchant for manipulation. Meanwhile, Tom Marvolo Riddle Jr. was the Lord of Darkness and he was a mass murderer. In this time fraught with murder, destruction and theft, I was born and the clever, albeit not well-meaning, old man devised the prophecy which would turn us against each other.” Hadrian began.

“Shortly after my first birthday, on All Hallows’ eve, Tom or as he was called Lord Voldemort, was given my location by a traitorous friend of my parents. He killed my parents and turned wand on me. Albus Dumbledore had expected my death, but it did not occur. The killing curse rebounded off me and struck Voldemort down. However, in search of immortality, Tom committed a taboo, he split his soul, ensuring that if his body was destroyed his spirit and magic would not be. His spirit fled into the night. Albus Dumbledore, the meddling old fool, crowned me “The Boy Who Lived,” a child hero. He then ferreted me away and placed me with a magic-hating muggle couple and their son. This couple was only related to me by law, since my muggle-born mother, Petunia’s sister, was not blood related. In my dimension, Muggle-born magic practitioners are not a separate species as they are here. I was frequently beaten, starved and emotionally neglected. My bedroom, until I was eleven years old, was the storage closet under the stairs. Then I was invited to Hogwarts and the half-Giant, the Hogwarts Groundskeeper, Hagrid, rescued me from my odious relations. I was a malleable pawn to Albus Dumbledore and he crafted me into the perfect Gryffindor. He suppressed my natural intelligence and cunning and in doing so a portion of my magic was sealed.” 

“Unlike in our universe, Hogwarts was believed a prestigious school and all other British Schools were considered subpar in comparison. In truth it was Hogwarts which was subpar, but Albus Dumbledore threw his influence and political power around to hide that fact. So, I attended Hogwarts as a Gryffindor and in the first two years, I encountered Voldemort. The first time I encountered him possessing my Defense professor in search of the Philosopher’s stone, and the second time I encountered his younger soul fragment who unleashed as basilisk on the school. Both times I prevented his return, but not without wounds.” Hadrian noted that the three Malfoys were enraptured with the story, as was the fourth hiding behind the informal dining room door.

“Third year, I met the only Azkaban escapee, my legal guardian and godfather, who was imprisoned on falsified charges. He had hunted down the traitor that had betrayed my parents and he intended to kill him. Another family friend and my then current Defense Professor, a bitten-werewolf, revealed himself after my godfather informed him of his innocence. I didn’t think my parents wanted them to become murderers and informed them of that. Then the traitor escaped when the moronic werewolf forgot to take his potion, which would render his bloodlust null and let him retain his intelligence. My godfather fought him off. A swarm of Dementors descended on my godfather and myself. We nearly died, but a Patronus, I later realized was my own, made them scatter saving our lives. When I came too, my godfather was recaptured, and the bumbling Minister was preparing to have him executed. My friend and I used a time turner to cast the Patronus and free my godfather who remained an outlaw.”

“Fourth year, I was illegally entered into a school tournament with competitors three years older – legal adults – from Hogwarts and two other schools. Hogwarts and one of my closest friends turned on me. In the third and final test, a friendly competitor and I won the tournament by seizing a trophy together, after we agreed to share the win for Hogwarts. However, Voldemort turned the trophy into a portkey and we were whisked away. My peer was knocked unconscious by our landing. Voldemort and the traitor performed a ritual to give Voldemort a body – Bone of the father, blood of the enemy and flesh of the servant. He had returned. He tortured me before turning wand on my now conscious peer. I sacrificed myself to save my peer and the portkey took the older boy back to Hogwarts. That was my last act in that universe, I had died.

“Only that wasn’t my end. I was reformed and sent tumbling thousands of years into the past in this universe. I rose again as the Shinigami, Undertaker. My peers are both reviled and awed by my existence. Now, what do I want with Lord Slytherin?”

“Do you want revenge on him?” Aurelian asked carefully.

“No, I don’t. Over the years I picked through my memories, some of which were originally erased or suppressed. I reconstructed the events of my past in my mind and realized that both Voldemort and I were pawns in Albus Dumbledore’s game. I don’t want revenge, I belong to Tom as much as he belongs to me. Our very beings are tied together by fate, destiny and magic in this universe.”

_In the Magical Community of France, a postmaster was employed to deliver the more pressing correspondences. Madam Lys was one such postmistress. Pulling her pale gray wool coat tighter around her considerable bulk, the woman prepared to disapparate. She was displeased that she had to work on the first night of yule, but her employer was quite insistent. Arriving on the warded property of Lord Bisset and his family, Madam Lys hurried forward on the front walk distractedly toying with the strap of her bag. As she neared the door, she swore she saw movement in the house, but dismissed it as she stumbled on a crack in the walk. Cursing quietly, she righted herself and picked up the fallen correspondences tucking them carefully into her bag. Glancing up once more she screamed at the horrifying sight in front of her. A large butcher knife covered in wet blood was thrust into the door in place of the knocker. A torn paper with a number “One” was secured to the door. Madam Lys ran to the edge of the wards and in her haste, she dropped her bag. Several minutes later, a group of French Aurors appeared on the property escorted by a terrified Madam Lys._

_With the presence of Madam Lys, the Aurors entered the wards without any danger. They pushed the front door open carefully and entered the house. Madam Lys stayed on the walk with an Auror. In discovering the mutilated corpses of Lord Bisset, Lady Bisset and their three children, alongside innumerable house elves, the group failed to notice that Madam Lys’s bag was absent until it was too late._  

* * *

 **To Be Continued**  

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